


Silence (or lack thereof) in the Library

by EmpressMermalaid



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Exhibitionism, Fingerfucking, Library Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressMermalaid/pseuds/EmpressMermalaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Really?” he asked, though the look on his face said he wasn't really all that surprised that Jean would sink to the levels of debauchery that include actually bringing lubricant to a library with the intent and purpose of having sex there.</p><p>[Oneshot in which Bertholdt tries to study and Jean is a major distraction.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence (or lack thereof) in the Library

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon prompt requesting JeanBert with a kink. Sorry it's not the misuse of 3DMG I promised, but exhibitionism is a decent enough kink tradeoff yeah? Also dedicated to all the people I love who are having a rough time right now - hope some poorly written dickings makes it feel better.

“Bertholdt?”

Jean stood a few steps behind the tall, hunched over boy before him, watching him silently pour over a text book that looked like it could be wielded as an impromptu melee weapon if required. Seriously. That thing could hurt someone if you weren’t careful. It was huge. Bertholdt looked up, blinking slowly several times before his eyes seemed to focus on Jean’s face and he smiled.

“Hi,” he whispered quietly, shuffling around to make room for Jean.

He was tucked in a dark, quiet part of the college library. Down one of the aisles that was rarely visited, resulting in a distinct aroma of dust and lifelessness that clung to your skin and clothes should you dare venture down there. He was sitting on the floor, legs crossed in front of him, a stack of books of various colours, sizes and states of repair piled in neat little turrets around him. Jean took a seat next to a fairly orderly looking tower, noting with how they were organised it seemed Bertholdt was already done with these ones.

“Hey,” Jean hissed, a little louder than Bertholdt, “can you help me with this?”

Bertholdt leant in as Jean produced a thick, stapled wad of papers. The bold heading on the cover sheet declared it was “ **Assignment 2: The Five Senses”** and Bertholdt scanned down the page when Jean dumped the papers in his hands. It was a “creative writing piece designed to test your abilities to describe settings, characters and events through unconventional senses”.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked in a hushed tone, passing the assignment back.

“You know, you don’t have to talk so quietly, no-one comes up this way anyway.”

“ _Jean!_ ”

“What?” his voice was high with mock indignation, though he knew exactly what he had done.

Bertholdt grumbled at him, throwing him a dirty look from under his bangs as he looked back down at the tome cradled in his lap.

“I need you to poke me in the stomach, like, really, _really_ hard,” Jean reclined casually.

“What?”

“Poke me,” he repeated, helpfully jabbing his own stomach in demonstration with pointed fingertips.

“ _Why?_ ” Bertholdt was shaking his head with the same strained look worn by those observing someone in the middle of a psychotic breakdown.

“Because I need to observe how it feels for my piece. I’m writing a scene where a guy gets stabbed in the gut, but I don’t think I’m _that_ committed to the A so poke me and I’ll describe it using _“unconventional senses”._

Jean gasped and grabbed his wrists when Bertholdt prodded him as hard as he could in the doughy lower half of his stomach.

“Ow!” he whined, wincing in pain.

“Well you asked me to,” Bertholdt hissed in his defence as Jean looked at him like he was a monster.

Jean let out a groan of pain.

“Well?” Bertholdt asked.

“It feels like... the colour green. And tastes like the betrayal of Bertholdt Hoover. And smells like... old-ass books,” he ran a hand through his hair, “shit, I'm horrible at this.”

Bertholdt hummed in a non-committal fashion. Jean _was_ bad at this but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell him so. There was a moment's silence as Bertholdt began to slowly immerse himself in his own studies and Jean stared contemplatively at an empty shelf near his head. Suddenly he leant forwards, capturing Bertholdt's wrist again from where it was poised to turn a page and he pressed it to his crotch. Bertholdt just about exploded. His face turned red and he stammered stupidly at his limp hand still cupped to Jean's clothed dick, held fast by Jean's own hand.

“What?” Jean smirked, subtly rutting into the touch with a roll of his hips.

“We... n-no-that's-I-”

“Relax, it's not like we haven't fucked before.”

If Bertholdt was red before, he was so flushed with embarrassment now his cheeks had invented a new colour.

“Why?” he choked out. Why this. Why here. Why now.

“Because I need something to take the edge off the pain,” he shrugged as blasé as ever.

Enjoying Bertholdt's hushed, stuttered protests he stalked across the floor like a predator, grinning from ear to ear, closing the already minute distance between them.

“Jean, _no_ ,” he hissed, eyes wide as they glanced around or anyone who may have been watching.

“Jean, _yes_ ,” came the muffled reply against his neck.

Bertholdt sucked in air sharply as Jean kissed his way down his neck, dipping his tongue into all the sensitive little curves and making the taller tanned boy squirm uncomfortably, though Bertholdt's head tipped back with a sharp intake of breath anyway. Jean nipped at his throat, biting softly on the dark skin until Bertholdt whimpered and let Jean press himself against his chest. Jean kissed Bertholdt tenderly, pulling away only to place a sweet peck against the shell of his ear.

“... ahh... c-come off it, Jean...”

“Bertholdt,” Jean sat up to stare into the other's eyes, “listen. I am so fucking turned on right now, you have no idea. You've been busy studying for the last two weeks straight and I haven't gotten my rocks off since that night after the Star Wars marathon so we're either doing this here, or I wait until there's more people around and pound you in the middle of the hallway in front of everyone. Your call.”

Bertholdt moaned, bending forward to capture the shorter boy's lips in a heated kiss, saliva mixing on their tongues, lips sealed as one.

“Here... please,” he whispered, “b-but you have to be quiet...promise?”

Jean smirked. He tugged Bertholdt to his knees, mouth still hot on his partner's, keeping the taller boy distracted as he fished something out of his back pocket. Jean pulled away from Bertholdt, whose lips trailed after him, holding up a clear, small plastic bottle in front of his face and he recoiled in surprise. Bertholdt blinked. Then comprehension dawned on his face, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape. He turned his attention to Jean with a curled smile.

“Really?” he asked, though the look on his face said he wasn't really all that surprised that Jean would sink to the levels of debauchery that include actually bringing lubricant to a library with the intent and purpose of having sex there.

“Really,” Jean reaffirmed, shaking the bottle slightly in time with his rapidly rising and falling eyebrows.

Bertholdt turned around, clipping his thumbs into his waist band and shimmying his hips teasingly as he inclined his head back towards the aisle opening, listening and looking hard for any signs of life apart from themselves. He was met with reassuring dead silence. He let Jean slide his hands over his thighs, curling around the curve of the muscle to meet at his zipper, which he quietly, carefully undid with a flick of his wrists and a kiss full of promises pressed to his shoulder. Bertholdt let his pants roll down his hips under Jean's guidance, stopping just below the curve of his ass which Jean sunk his fingertips into the moment he could, kneading and spreading the soft mounds aside. The smaller boy made no dramatic show of hurriedly uncapping the lubricant, dousing his fingers in excess clear liquid, and pressing the cold, wet digits to Bertholdt's entrance, slipping slightly as he sought out the dip of the hot tightness that he wanted so badly. Bertholdt jumped, squeaking slightly at the sudden attention, feeling exposed but also strangely okay with this new turn of events and he spread his thighs wider, his own hands coming behind him to pry apart his soft skin, giving Jean clear admittance to gently press into the sensitive flesh that easily gave way to his fingers, drawing in the sleek tip hungrily. Jean loved how quickly Bertholdt adjusted to the sensation, leaning forwards slightly so the angle of his hands could thrust in at just the right slant. Encouraged by Bertholdt's shaky breaths, Jean slid a finger in completely, revelling in the loud gasp he got in response, followed by Bertholdt clamping his hands over his mouth in humiliation, craning his neck to look back at Jean who merely bit his lip seductively and slid another finger inside of him. Jean made no pretext of being soft or kind, crooking his fingers hard at the knuckle to press and push and pry apart Bertholdt's walls, making the other boy writhe and gulp noisily in between short, anxious breaths.

“Someone's coming,” Bertholdt hissed suddenly, eyes wide and he tried to straighten his clothes and quieten his breathing. He expected Jean to try and do the same but was horrified to see the tawny hair boy just looking back at him with lazily mischievous eyes. He crooked his fingers, making Bertholdt jump, a breathless gasp escaping his lips. Jean wasn't budging. The footsteps were getting closer.

Bertholdt scrambled to back up, ending up in a fairly awkward half-sitting crouch, tugging his sweater down as far as it would go (which was a considerable distance, his self consciousness meant he tended to buy clothes that were always too big for him) to conceal the fact his jeans were pushed down past his ass and he was getting finger-banged unashamedly in the middle of the college library. He did a pretty good job of pretending to look absorbed in the cover of the book he just picked up as he sat with his front to the opening of the aisle, back to Jean, who was smirking to himself, half hidden behind Bertholdt, just enough to hide his hand down Bertholdt's pants. Bertholdt could have sworn that anyone in the immediate vicinity to them would have been able to hear the thundering of his heart in his chest. But the thought of someone walking past, the little adrenaline kick at the thought of being discovered like this went straight to his cock instead of his fight or flight reflexes like it should. Goddamn, Jean was turning him into a pervert.

He almost let out a strangled yelp as his professor walked past, catching sight of him and clearly stopping to talk. At the same time, Jean's fingers twitched, reminding him oh so clearly of their current position.

“Bertholdt,” his professor said with a friendly smile, “how's the study coming?”

Bertholdt did a magnificent job of looking composed for someone who had two fingers buried in his ass and was cradling a very persistent boner behind an all too flimsy sweater and a book he was holding upside down. His cheeks felt hot and he was fairly sure his skin was growing clammy with sweat by the second.

“Good!” he managed to squeak out, opening the book he was holding, noticing nothing made sense and hastily turning it up the right way.

If the hawk eyed teacher noticed that something was amiss, she certainly didn't let on. She didn't seem to notice Bertholdt's cheeks were burning crimson, and that he was biting his tongue so hard behind his lips he was close to drawing blood which would have been preferable to accidentally letting out any number of the moans he was trapping in his throat. Jean acted as though he was very interested in his phone – he had no obligation to pay this professor any mind anyway – but in reality he was just looking at his inbox without seeing it, too caught up in the delightful feeling of teasing the boy beside him. He crooked his fingers again, rubbing them slowly against the tight softness of his insides, feeling his fingers slide together with a sensual slipperiness thanks to the lubricant slicked between them. He felt Bertholdt shudder.

“Did you get the email I sent out yesterday?” the professor asked conversationally and Bertholdt swallowed deeply as he opened his mouth to reply.

“Y-Yes!” he took a deep breath, steadying himself against the torturous pleasure that was threatening to bring his whole facade down around him, “I... did see that one, yes.”

Silently, he was pleading with her to leave, hoping his short answers would leave little room for her to linger. She nodded slowly, glancing at Jean quickly, though he ignored her entirely. Feeling cruel, Jean pulled his fingers out ever so slightly, just enough to let his knuckles slip past the tight ring gripping them close and thrust them back in. He was rewarded with an almost silent puff of air as Bertholdt slipped his bottom lip between his teeth surreptitiously, just barely taking the skin in his mouth, pressing his teeth to it desperately. His was still managing to make his face seem fairly neutral. Jean was impressed. Too impressed. He wasn't going to lose.

Jean curled one finger towards himself, letting the other stretch back towards Bertholdt's stomach, scissoring him with a slow but persistent stretch. Jean saw Bertholdt's Adams apple bob worriedly. Masking a cocky chuckle behind a well timed clearing of his throat, Jean continued his movements, letting his fingers fall in line together again, only to push them out from one another, pressing into Bertholdt from all sides. He made sure to part them in different directions constantly, never giving Bertholdt the respite of expectation so he was always on edge, completely unsure which direction, which nerve was going to be caressed by Jean's loving touch next. Bertholdt wanted nothing more than to roll his hips back into that touch, to take those fingers even deeper inside of him, to let Jean reach to his core and let the smaller boy unravel him from the inside out. But alas the oblivious professor was still standing there, happily listing off a few trivial matters in regards to the assignments and upcoming exams Bertholdt was required to finish as part of his assessment.

Bertholdt was letting more and more little gasps past his lips, the quiver of his eyebrows showing the cracks that were starting to form in his hastily compiled mask. From where Jean sat, mostly shielded behind his tall shoulders, he could see the tips of Bertholdt's ears burn a deep rooted red, his cheeks twitching as he tried to stop his whole body from convulsing in pleasure. The teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheeks, his jaw gritting as he used the smallest possible gestures to try and hold his own body back from moving too obviously, from giving them both away with an ill timed moan or roll of his eyes into the back of his head. The professor began to shift in a way that indicated she was finished with the conversation. Jean jerked the digits spreading Bertholdt's hole a little harder, wondering if he could get him to slip at all. Bertholdt stared resolutely ahead, bidding his tutor farewell as she walked away. Now that she couldn't see them, Jean grinned, a wide, devilish smile that showed far too much teeth to even attempt looking innocent as he unfurled his fingers, reaching deeper into Bertholdt to rub purposefully in small, tense circles against his prostate as best he could from this position.

Bertholdt let his face crumple, eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open in a muffled groan as he let the hot, wet breath he was holding out, the creases in his brows making him look relieved and mortified at the same time. The furrow on his forehead said he wanted to have many strict words with Jean, but the blush creeping over his cheeks and the saliva pooling on his tongue was indicative of how too far gone he was for that. The most he could manage was a weak glance out the corner of his eye as he moved his legs under him, trying to get into a more comfortable position with the fingers still stroking his insides. Now that he wasn't hindered by having to hide his movements, Jean finger fucked Bertholdt much harder, much deeper, much more thoroughly. He felt the excess lubricant, warm and wet against his fingers envelope more and more of his hand, also smearing up the curve of Bertholdt's ass as he forced them in and out with less and less resistance. In fact, they slid in rather easily, Bertholdt's heat seeming to swallow him up as he pried apart the sweet tightness gripping him.

Bertholdt's head hung forwards, small shivers down his back shaking loose a daisy chain of light gasps and whines that barely reached Jean's ears. His breathing was deep and shuddering as he panted hard, trying to catch his breath as he emptied his lungs of air he wasn't aware he was holding tight in his chest. Jean rewarded such a perfect, delicious reaction with a twist of his fingers, letting Bertholdt strain against him, feeling the flesh weaken under his ministrations regardless of how frequently he felt the brunette jump, muscles suddenly gripping Jean's digits tighter. His professor was long gone, and he didn't hear anyone else nearby so he finally gave into the sweet release of letting his body respond to Jean's touch, letting his hips jerk back, trying to find any kind of gratification in the way his cock rubbed against the sticky film of his now damp underwear. Bertholdt pulled his sweater out of the way, pulling it up until just a sliver of his narrow, mocha hip was visible and he smiled coyly as he caught Jean raking his eyes hungrily over his body, from the tantalising peek of his shapely legs still mostly wrapped in dark denim to his round, bare ass spread by Jean's own pale, narrow hands. Jean groaned needily, a quiet, coarse noise from the back of his throat.

He moved up onto his knees, pulling his fingers from Bertholdt who sighed agitatedly, a flutter of mourning passing over his features as he craned his neck to look behind him. Jean fumbled with his belt, glancing to the end of the aisle, straining his ears for the first sign of interruption but everything was silent, save for the heavy breathing coming from his partner which was for his ears only. He grinned as he pushed his pants down his thighs, not bothering with flirtation or teasing as his boxers went with them, and he grinned as he fished the small bottle of lube out of his back pocket, uncapping it and decanting a decent amount into his palm. His grin faltered as he curled that hand around his own hardness, a dazed sigh pulled from his lungs he let his hands slick himself up with cool, slippery strokes. His amber eyes positively smouldered as Bertholdt hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his own jeans, sliding them down past his knees with a taunting, brief glance in Jean's direction. His bowed lips curved into a deceptively shy smile as he turned himself around fully. He spread his thighs as far as they would go with his pants tied around his legs, his feet pressed together, ass perked invitingly in the air.

Jean bit down on his lips as he moved forward, grabbing the crook of Bertholdt's hips and guiding him back onto his cock hastily. He felt his tip be swallowed in heavenly heat almost at once, the lubricant intensifying the feeling of Bertholdt's muscles massaging his shaft as he carefully pressed himself in to the hilt. Bertholdt took him easily, well prepared and eager, his breath only hitching ever so slightly as the thickest part of Jean's length spread him wide, the hardness forcing his walls apart to accommodate Jean's now leaking arousal. Once Jean felt his pubic bone meld to the softness of Bertholdt's skin he let his hips settle for a moment, enjoying the sensation of filling the other boy completely, enjoying the way his hole twitched around him, enjoying the way Bertholdt's milky, dark thighs trembled slightly as he gave him time to adjust to the intrusion. Bertholdt didn't rush. He knew someone could come by at any moment, but arousal butted his brain and the allure of taking his time and savouring the relief of being fucked was too much and he happily accepted the stress melting chemicals that flooded his senses. He hummed, a deep, reverberating noise of contentment as his insides relaxed into the feeling of being fully taken over by Jean and the spillage of lubricant making his hole numb to any potential discomfort or unwelcome friction. All he felt was a delirious fullness, dangerously close to every little spot inside him that would make him see stars, all he needed was a little more, a little further, if Jean would just-...

Bertholdt's cock wept and his palms fisted against the coarse grain of the carpet so hard he felt them burn sharply as Jean pulled out, gently at first, making sure the other was adjusted and comfortable and he wasn't going to hurt him. Jean looked down the curve of Bertholdt's back, trying to read him for a sign if he was ready as he rubbed small, soothing circles into his legs with feather-light trails of his fingertips. The little shimmy of his tanned hips, wiggling his ass back and forth was all the answer he needed. He slid back in with a controlled thrust, relishing the warm wetness that enveloped his cock, making it throb in response. He couldn't help letting out a single, drawn out moan as he ground against Bertholdt's ass, sparing a passing thought for how pleased he was the deep, slow rhythm he was setting managed to avoid any overtly lewd sounds of schlicking lube or slapping skin. Bertholdt was silent beneath him, but he was rocking his hips back into every thrust, swallowing more of Jean, coaxing him wordlessly into giving him more. It had been way too long since the last time he'd had sex, and his whole body was crying in muted pleasure at every last lingering touch of Jean's thin hands on his back and waist, every ripple of his ass against Jean's waist as he was pounded so sweetly it set his whole body alight.

A quiet gasp darted past Bertholdt's lips as Jean deviated slightly from his consistent rocking, faltering as he entered Bertholdt with a particularly forceful thrust, his cock slipping against the shiny wetness coating the tanned skin beneath him. The motion caused his hips to shift slightly, angled more sidelong and the sudden brushing of nerves at that foreign slant felt wonderful, amazing... Bertholdt let out a whimper, louder than he intended, and he bit his lips furiously to hold back the wave of vocal approval on the tip of his tongue. Bertholdt arched his back, crying silently for the cock inside of him to fuck him senseless, to press deep inside of him and pound him hard until he came. Jean fell back into his prior rhythm and Bertholdt couldn't help but sink into the floor, his chest pressed into the ground to grant Jean clearer admittance to his ass which was now craving that same delirious pleasure to build and build with the steady pounding of his sensitive spots from Jean's precome-slicked head.

“F-fuck...” Jean stammered breathlessly, “this... this is so hot.”

Bertholdt didn't trust the volume of his voice enough to reply, even though he really wanted to moan loudly and let his gasps and sighs make Jean work him harder, only managing the barest of whines from the depth of his throat instead. Jean still heard him, and much to Bertholdt's pleasure, he coiled lower until his chest was pressed against Bertholdt's back. Jean pressed his lips to the clothed bend of Bertholdt's spine, feeling him shiver under his lips as the slow build of his rocking hips coaxed them both closer to a point of urgency. Jean gasped quietly as Bertholdt clenched around him, pulling his cock deeper into a perfect, warm wetness that swallowed him up to the hilt. He shuddered, feeling the smooth, tight grip massage him from his tip, all the way along his shaft. A heavy weight of burning arousal began to pulse dully in his stomach as Bertholdt's hole pressed hard around his dick, tightening with every passing thrust until all Jean could feel was a tense pressure clamping down on him from all angles as his length gave a persuasive throb. He was getting close, he knew, he could feel his balls tighten against the slipperiness of lubricant that rubbed against both of their skin as Jean held Bertholdt tighter to him and slammed his hips down into the taut, stretched sheath of his lover. His breath was hot and misted back into his own face as he panted hard into Bertholdt's back, which felt cold and clammy as his sweater began to grow damp with sweat. He quickly lost the ability to hold back any more at this angle, the perfect downward roll into Bertholdt's ass was swallowing him up and making his brain fuzzy to anything that wasn't a thought directly pertaining to granting himself more of the silky, tanned flesh that was driving him wild. Jean grunted and quickly quietened himself as Bertholdt gave a small squeak of protest at his volume.

“Are... ahh... you going to c-come..?” Bertholdt whimpered into his palm, pushing back on his hips to meet Jean's thrusts now, feeling his own length drip and quiver needily.

Bertholdt was completely on edge. The shorter boy's hard, sharp pace always rocked him to orgasm quicker than anyone he had ever been with. Bertholdt slid a hand down his own stomach, feeling his flesh burn up beneath his own touch, balancing precariously on a bent elbow and his cheek pressed to the coarse, scratchy carpet as he curled his other palm around his own erection and began to stroke himself in a quick, jerky pace to match Jean's frenetic pounding. He moaned as softly as possible, feeling his hand grow wet and sticky as his own juices leaked out over him fingers.

“Ooh - God, yes... y-yes...” Jean bit down hard on the fabric of Bertholdt's top, pulling it between his teeth to muffle his groans of pleasure. He reached around, covering Bertholdt's hand with his own as he thrust them both closer to the edge, squeezing the taller brunette's fingers beneath his own as he guided the rhythm that he jerked off with. Bertholdt keened silently, his mouth open in a muted cry as he bucked his hips into Jean's touch, only to rock back again and be stretched apart by the weeping girth spreading him apart. A high pitched whine was all the warning Bertholdt got as Jean grit his teeth, panting hard. His hands tightened around Bertholdt, squeezing almost uncomfortably tight as he thrust in once, twice, three times more, each grind of his hips pumping thick, burning hot liquid inside of Bertholdt's welcoming warmth as Jean shuddered against his back. Bertholdt moaned, wrapped tightly in Jean's thin armed embrace. Jean didn't stop, rutting against Bertholdt's ass, grinding his still mostly stiff length against the brunette's sensitive insides. The clenching of his hand over Bertholdt's, which was still furiously rubbing the length of his hard, wet cock was all it took to send him into his own spiral of release, body trembling as he made a mess of the floor below him. He let Jean's weight fall in to him, and they lay like that a moment, awkwardly propped up against Bertholdt's hands and knees until Jean slid weakly out of him and began fastening his pants hastily.

“Jean!”

“Hnn?”

“You just _came_. _In me_.”

“Yeah.”

“ _Jean!!”_

“Sorry!”

Bertholdt stared at him, blushing furiously as he tore off his sweater and tried desperately to clean the suspicious stain off of the carpet before it sank in any further and trying to pull up his jeans at the same time, all while muttering under his breath, beet red and sweating anxiously. Jean did not doubt for a minute that he would be regretting that later, even while he laughed under his breath and helped shimmy Bertholdt's jeans back over his hips.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon: Armin was totally in the next row trying to study and saw EVERYTHING. But was too awkward to say something or leave so he ended up witnessing a lot more frickle fracking than he was bargaining for in coming to the library to study.
> 
> Also I'M A BAD PORN WRITER AND KEEP FORGETTING LUBE SO HERE, I DIDN'T FORGET THIS TIME SO I DON'T HAVE TO GO IN THE TRASH THANKS AND THANKS AGAIN. And I experimented with writing longer paragraphs since I've noticed I'm a little trigger happy on the spacing, so if it reads a little differently to some of my prior works that would be why.
> 
> Just a reminder that you can see more of my shit in the following places:
> 
> [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/ladymermalaid)  
> [Tumblr (main)](http://www.ladymermalaid.tumblr.com)  
> [Tumblr (porny side blog)](http://www.empressmermalaid.tumblr.com)
> 
> Did you enjoy this fic? Chuck me a comment (even if it's just a single, solitary grunt) and you will fill me with such pride and vanity and appreciation I will have no choice but to write more and update more regularly to soak up more of that sweet, sweet recognition. It's that simple!


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